


In The Still Of The Night

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, Desk Sex, First Time, Flashback, Frottage, Guilt, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:25:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick can't escape the evidence of previous events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Still Of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the smallfandomfest prompt 'Nick/Stephen, A late night at the office, when everything is quiet and dimly lit, and nothing seems real. Though it seems all too real the next morning.'

Nick sidled tentatively into his office, and then stopped at the top of the stairs, trying to detect any signs of life within. Just because the door had been locked when he’d arrived, didn’t mean there couldn’t be anyone else in here. He wasn’t the only person with a key, after all.  
  
He waited a full thirty seconds, until he was sure there was no one else around, and then walked slowly down towards his desk, coming to a halt in front of it.  
  
  
 _The edge of the desk dug into the back of his thighs as he was pressed against it, but he hardly noticed. Instead, he was focused on the hand that had settled on his hip, burning a hole through layers of denim and cotton, it felt like, and the other hand that was cradling the back of his neck, fingers just sliding into the short ends of hair at the nape._  
  
  
His eyes were drawn to the now partially dry slick of dark brown liquid that flowed over the corner of the desk and down its side to the carpet, leaving a stain that the cleaners were no doubt going to be ecstatic about when they found it.  
  
Glad of the excuse, Nick hurried to kitchenette to grab a damp cloth, spending long minutes wetting it thoroughly before he reluctantly returned to the main office and started dabbing ineffectually at the coffee stains.  
  
  
 _Warm air ghosted across his face from a mouth that was oh so close. It was quiet enough that he could almost hear the sound of his heart thundering in his chest, and his fast, shallow breaths sounded loud in his ears.  
  
Then lips closed over his own, and dimly he registered a dull clatter as his flailing hands knocked over a mug as they scrabbled to get a grip on something._  
  
  
After a few minutes, Nick gave up on trying to make any headway with the stains, and dropped the cloth on the desktop before slumping into his chair and powering up his computer in an effort to distract himself.  
  
He checked a few emails, and then realised that there was a half completed message sitting in his draft folder.  
  
  
 _“Wait, I have to finish this…it’s important it’s sent now…”  
  
He was ignored as an eager mouth tracked across his skin, teeth scraping against his stubble and lips sucking marks down the line of his throat. He couldn’t help but tip his head back, a groan escaping his own mouth as little more than a strangled gasp._  
  
  
Nick raised a hand absently to his throat, and then, realising what he was doing, snatched it away quickly. He settled his fingers firmly back on the keyboard, and turned his attention back to his half-finished email.  
  
That done, he checked his timetable. But there were no seminars this morning – nothing to provide him with either an excuse to get the hell out of here, or a reason why he was still the only one in his office.  
  
  
 _He became aware that the hands had moved, and were now unbuttoning his shirt, fingers sliding inside to caress exposed skin.  
  
A feeble protest got lodged in his throat as a thumb brushed across his left nipple, and instead he made an embarrassing noise of encouragement.  
  
A huff of laughter met his ears, and the explorations continued unabated._  
  
  
He supposed he could just leave anyway. He was torturing himself by being here, and it was unlikely he would be able to stop thinking about what had happened, no matter how hard he tried.  
  
But that was too much like running away, and Nick didn’t want to run away. It wasn’t like he could just set up shop in another office, after all. He suspected the dean wouldn’t look too kindly on that.  
  
Determined, Nick opened another email, and started to read. Although he couldn’t stop his eyes straying to the door every few seconds, half expecting it to open at any moment.  
  
  
 _“Wait, did you hear that?”  
  
He froze, ears straining. There was another huff of laughter against the skin of his throat.  
  
“There’s no one out there. It’s late, the building’s empty. We’re alone.”  
  
Another kiss, and then another, soon made him forget about any phantom sounds he might or might not have heard. Of course there was no one around to interrupt them._  
  
  
Nick suddenly realised that it had been several minutes since he’d typed anything, and he was instead staring into space, one hand idly stroking along the smooth leather arm-rest of his chair, while the other had gone back to his throat.  
  
He resisted the urge to thump his head on the desktop. It seemed he’d been correct about his inability to stop thinking about the previous night’s events. Even if the recollections brought with them a confusing mix of arousal, guilt, and embarrassment.  
  
  
 _A mental prod from somewhere deep in the recesses of his brain informed him that so far he hadn’t taken a very active part in this encounter. Slowly, he detached his hands from the edge of the desk – he couldn’t decide whether world felt slightly less off-balance now, or even more out of kilter than before – and slid them round a slim, taut waist until he could tug at the hem of a t-shirt, pulling it out of a pair of jeans so he could push his hands up and feel smooth, warm skin._  
  
  
Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts crowding into his mind, Nick cast around desperately for something else to do. He was sure he’d left a stack of essays on his desk for marking, but they didn’t seem to be in evidence now.  
  
Then he noticed some papers on the floor, bunched up between the end of the desk and a filing cabinet.  
  
  
 _A body pressed forward against his own, almost as if its owner had been waiting for a sign. He groaned as he felt evidence of arousal pressing against the bulge in his own jeans, sparks of sensation dancing across his skin.  
  
Unconsciously, he shifted his position slightly to maximise the effect, sending a pile of papers cascading to the floor, almost unnoticed._  
  
  
Nick sighed, and briefly considered just leaving the essays where they were. Then he remembered the vociferous complaints the last time the students had had their essays returned in a somewhat less pristine state than they’d handed them in.  
  
Sighing again, he slid out of his chair and to his knees, reaching down into the gap between the desk and the filing cabinet to try to fish the papers out.  
  
He’d manage to retrieve about half of them when he heard the office door open.  
  
  
 _They were pushing together almost frantically now, rutting against each other in an effort to increase the friction, even as hands continued to grab at clothing and skin, and lips melded together in one fierce kiss after another.  
  
It couldn’t – didn’t – last long, and with a shudder and a gutteral groan he spent himself inside his boxers, knowing by the answering noises and murmurs of his name that his companion had climaxed too._  
  
  
If he just stayed absolutely still, didn’t move and didn’t speak, maybe his visitor wouldn’t realise he was here, Nick thought. It was definitely worth a try.  
  
Then his hopes were dashed.  
  
“I can actually see you, Cutter,” said a voice. A voice with a noticeable strain in it, for all it was trying to sound amused.  
  
Nick gave up and clambered to his feet. He might as well try and save _some_ of his dignity.  
  
“Hello, Stephen,” he said.  
  
  
 _The afterglow lasted about a minute before the thoughts started crowding in on him.  
  
Had he really just done that? With…? Christ, what had he been thinking? Nothing could ever be the same after this. They should never have… Everything was ruined.  
  
He pushed, giving himself enough space to extricate himself. There was a confused look and several questions, but he didn’t notice.  
  
Instead, he fled._  
  
  
They stared at each other for several long moments, and then both spoke at the same time.  
  
“Cutter, are you all right?”  
  
“Stephen, I’m sorry.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You ran away,” Stephen said quickly. “People don’t normally run away after…” He trailed off and quirked a smile.  
  
“Oh, no, I…I’m sorry,” Nick said again. “It shouldn’t have happened.”  
  
“Why not?” Stephen looked genuinely curious.  
  
“Because it will change everything.”  
  
“So? I suppose I thought that was the idea.”  
  
“What? You did?”  
  
“Well, yes.” Stephen gave him an incredulous look. “Why, did you think it was a one-time thing?”  
  
“I, well…actually, I don’t know what I thought,” Nick confessed. “I think I panicked. And then, well, as you say, people don’t normally run away after. I thought you’d realise you’d made a horrible mistake or something.”  
  
Stephen shook his head in something like despair, and started down the stairs. Nick suddenly realised that they’d been having this entire conversation across the whole width of his office.  
  
“Not likely,” Stephen said. “Not when I’ve been waiting for it to happen for about three years.”  
  
Nick blinked. “What?”  
  
“You’re beginning to sound like a broken gramophone record,” Stephen teased. “But yes, three years, give or take.” He made his way around the desk and took Nick’s hand, pulling him close. “And after three years, I’m not going to give up that easily,” he murmured.  
  
“Oh, okay.”  
  
“Okay?” Stephen questioned.  
  
Nick nodded firmly. “Okay.”  
  
Stephen laughed and kissed him. Then he pulled back abruptly. “You’re not going to run away again, are you?” he asked.  
  
“No,” replied Nick. “No more running away. I’ll be sticking around this time.”


End file.
